The End of All Things
by Kora
Summary: *UPDATE 3/15* far into the depths of mordor, frodo and sam look back on the time and events that made them like they are today--as brothers.
1. A Beginning

_This is my take on how Frodo and Sam went from two little hobbit children to the best friends that we see them as in Return of the King.  There are many other interpretations of this storyline that are much better than mine, but this story was screaming in my veins to be told, and I had to get it out.  I hope you enjoy it._

_I have tried to keep this within the timeline laid out by Tolkien in the appendix in the back of ROTK, but I'm sure that there were details that I have forgotten and therefore mistakes that were made that might present themselves in this story.  Hopefully that won't throw anything off too much.  I also seem to be struggling with writing Frodo and Sam's characters well (especially Sam's, though I couldn't tell you why) so please forgive me if they seem off character at all.  Any suggestions/advice are gratefully received.  Thank you—Kora _

The Beginning

_"'Don't you leave him, Samwise Gamgee!'  And I don't mean to, I don't mean to."_

            A smile tugged at Frodo Baggins' lips as the brave and loyal statement echoed through his brain.  Frodo's smile grew fonder when his companion, Sam Gamgee, rolled over and muttered in his sleep.  "Not much further now, Mr. Frodo.  We'll make it yet."

            The grin was welcome to Frodo.  In this grim and desolate land of Mordor, any snatch of happiness was precious.  Frodo sighed and shifted in his place, trying to shove the sickly lump feeling in his stomach back so that he might regain enough peace to fall asleep.

            For some inexplicable reason, despite the weariness that pounded and dragged on his body, Frodo found himself unable to sleep.  Sam, on the other hand, had drifted off as soon as they had stopped to take a break.  Again Frodo turned and studied his sleeping friend.  Sam's brow was furrowed in concern.  From the phrases the young hobbit was murmuring in his sleep, Sam appeared to be having a restless dream.

            Frodo wished he had the power to ease Sam's thoughts, somehow alleviate the worry that kept Sam from experiencing a brief moment of respite, even during his slumber.  But no, Sam insisted on constantly worrying about Frodo.  _'If only'_ Frodo wished, _'if only you knew the love and care and concern I hold for you, just as you do for me.'_

            Deep in his dream, Sam heard his closest friend's call.  Stretching, he woke.  "Is all well, Mr. Frodo?" he asked with a yawn.

            "Yes, Sam, as good as can be expected," Frodo answered with a wry smile.  "I was just…remembering."

            "Remembering what?"  Sam pushed himself up into a sitting position and licked his dry lips.

            Frodo heaved a weighty sigh and gazed at the area surrounding them.  The foot of Mount Doom was in plain sight now, and the air around them was thick, blanketed with smoke and ash.  The wizened, stubborn tufts off vegetation that forced t heir way through the hard ground to live in this barren land were matted and parched.  All this was a stark contrast to where Frodo had grown up with Sam.

            "About us…the old days.  After I was adopted by Bilbo and you were barely, if even, a tween."

            An unabashed smile lit Sam's face.  "I remember, Mister Frodo."  His features clouded, partially serious but mostly nostalgic.  "I remember that first day…" he trailed off, and looked beseechingly into Frodo's eyes.  "Will you tell me about it, as if it were a story?"

            Despite all that weighed upon him, Frodo chuckled.  "But Sam, you were there!"

            "I know, Mr. Frodo," Sam stammered, fiddling with his fingers.  "But you're so good at telling stories, just like Mr. Bilbo, and anything to lighten this dreadful place just a little…"

            Frodo stifled a laugh.  _'Good old Sam.'_  "Alright, I suppose you're right."  Frodo shifted so he faced Sam more directly.  "It was a gorgeous spring day, I can't for the life of me remember the date, but I remember the beauty of the day vividly…"

***

            Sunlight streamed down from the glowing orb in the sky and immersed all below in its warm radiance.  Large cotton clouds dotted the blue-egg sky above, like splotchy blots of white paint on a light blue canvas.  Flowers of every wild and pastel color imaginable swayed slightly in the cool breeze, peacefully  nestled in the soft, tick green carpet of grass.  Birds entertained all who paused to listen with their cheerful songs.  'Twas a typical spring day in the Shire.

            A young Frodo Baggins scampered through the tall grass to the "Great Unknown,  the great unknown being a small grotto tucked away in the edge of the valley directly outside Hobbiton, where open space met forest.  Yet to Frodo, this grotto was the site of an epic battle between goblin and elf.  Only one daring and brave young hobbit held the key to preventing evil from overtaking Middle Earth.  That hobbit was he, Frodo Baggins.

            Using a stick he'd found lying on the side of a path as a sword, Frodo battled his way through hoards of goblin warriors to reach the grotto—and the scene of the fight raging between goblin chieftain and elvish prince.  Leaping onto a rock beneath and beside a baby waterfall, Frodo cried, "I am here!"

            A startled sandy-haired head, a few feet downstream, snapped up.  "I'm sorry!"

            Frodo dropped his "sword" and jumped off the rock to see who the owner of the voice and head was.  "Who are you?  And what have you to be sorry for?"  

            The small figure squirmed his way from the two rocks he'd wedged himself between.

            "Samwise—Sam—Gamgee!"  Frodo laughed.  Sam presented a comical sight.  Everywhere from his dirty-blonde head to the curly hair on his feet and toes was dripping wet.  In his right hand, Sam clutched a modest metal pail—the one used for watering the small pansies rowing the edges of the path to Bag-End.  

            Frodo laughed again.  "Whatever are you doing, Sam?"

            Sam flushed a deep crimson and stuttered an answer.  "My—my Gaffer sent me to—to get water for the flowers."

            Frodo's eyebrows arched quizzically.  "Can't you get water from the well in town?  Or even a stream closer to Bag-End?"

            Sam blushed even redder, and his stammering made his words nearly unintelligible.  "I—I know I c-could, Mister F-Frodo, but---but seeing as how it's so pretty he-here, I j…just thought…"

            Frodo's laugh rang through the grotto.  "Don't be so scared, Sam, you're not in trouble."  He moved to stand beside the younger hobbit and slung an arm around his shoulders.  "I was just curious as to why you were making extra work for yourself.  Come one, we'll head back to Hobbiton and fill your pail on the way."

            A nervous smile flickered on Sam's lips.  "Thank you, Mr. Frodo."

            Frodo shook his head—Sam acted a bit too much like a meek rabbit at times, but it was endearing.  "It's nothing, not a trouble at all."  The two tweens made their way out of the grotto and towards Hobbiton.  

***

            Years passed since the incident in the grotto.  Frodo and Sam began to spend more time together in play, with the younger Meriadoc (Merry) and the younger still Peregrin (Pippin) Took joining in when they visited Hobbiton.  

            As Sam grew, he took in more responsibilities around Bag-End, with the garden being his favorite place to work.  Sam loved the feel of the cool, soft soil between his fingers, and plants flourished under his touch, even with Sam's tender age.  

            Because of Sam's increasing workload, Frodo soon found himself bored often.  The games he had played as a child for solitary entertainment no longer amused him.  Frodo found himself making a habit of staring wistfully out the window at Sam performing one task or another.  At least the younger hobbit had something to fill his day, and Sam never seemed bored nor lonely.  Frodo wished he could go out and offer his help to Sam, but Bilbo quickly cautioned Frodo against such an action.

            Frodo did not understand it, but for some reason, it would be improper to offer to help his friend.  Bilbo tried explaining it to his adopted heir, but Frodo had resigned to grudgingly accepting the rule, grumbling all the while.  It was on such a day, gorgeous and crisp, that Frodo had an idea.

            He abandoned his spot beside the window, leapt up, and raced down the path to the Gamgee home (waving of course to Sam as he flew by).  When Frodo reached the Gamgee's door, he stopped suddenly.  Bilbo had also warned him not to bother the Gamgees whilst they were at work.  Frodo meant no disrespect, but he could hardly wait to present his plan to Hamfast Gamgee.  Frodo stood, unmoving, torn between being polite and the excitement thudding in his heart.  To his fortune, luck happened to cross his path and make the decision for him.

            "Frodo?  What are you doing?"  Bilbo leaned into Frodo's line of vision and studied the scrunched features and furrowed brow on Frodo's face.  

            "I-I'm thinking," Frodo stuttered, startled out of his reverie.  He looked up at Bilbo and noticed that the older hobbit had come out of the Gamgee home.  Bilbo saw the question in Frodo's eyes and realized that he'd have to first before Frodo would understand enough to form his own answer.

            "I took tea with Mrs. Gamgee today," Bilbo explained, his eyes twinkling.  "Now, tell me why you are standing out in front of her home with such a befuddled expression on your face."

            Frodo chewed on his lip nervously before replying.  "I was thinking that possibly if I talked to Mr. Gamgee, he would allow Sam and I to go on a camping trip for a day or two, if you approve as well, that is."

            A small smile curled the corners of Bilbo's lips.  He knew how much Frodo wanted to spend more time with Sam.  "Let me speak with Hamfast about it."  He gently nudged Frodo in the direction of Bag-End.  "You run along, don't bother the Gamgees.  I'll see about things."

tbc


	2. Strengthening the Bond

_I'm sorry if the mood in this story fluctuates at odd times, especially towards the end. I wrote the beginning and latter half of this chapter to the Young Hercules soundtrack, (which was only fair and appropriate as I wrote the latest chapter of my yh fic to the lotr soundtrack) and the beginning of the soundtrack tends to change a lot from soft to fast-paced music, and I believe that that may have influenced my writing. As before, I openly welcome any suggestions that anyone has. Thank you. And thanks to everyone for all of the great reviews! Thanks! It's really encouraged me to keep posting!—Kora _

Strengthening the Bond

_ ~ " 'So that was the job I felt I had to do when I started,' thought Sam: 'to help Mr. Frodo to the last step and then die with him? Well if that is the job than I must do it.'" – J.R.R. Tolkien, Return of the King_

A wide grin spread across Sam's face. "I remember what happened next, Mr. Frodo. My Gaffer was right surprised, let me tell you, when Mr. Bilbo came and asked him to let me off work for a few days so I could go on a camp-out with you."

The memory and Sam's enthusiasm brought much needed warmth to Frodo's heart. He returned the smile, but suddenly felt that he couldn't go on. "I am weary, Sam," he said in a drained voice. "The burden weighs heavily upon me."

Sam leaned over and studied Frodo, concern etched on his features. "There's not much I can do about that, Mr. Frodo, besides the impossible, though I wish I could do that," he said finally, dejectedly. Brightening a bit, he continued. "But if you want I could go on with the story, seeing as how I remember it and all."

Sam glanced at Frodo's disturbingly pale face for approval. "I know I'm not the greatest storyteller, certainly not with the likes of you and Mr. Bilbo, but maybe it'll help soothe all that you've got on your mind and heart and free you to sleep a little."

Frodo did not know what he would do without Sam. "Please," he told his best friend, unable to say much more than that for already the fog was claiming him. "I would like that. I feel the mists coming upon me again and it would do good for me to hear your voice, it would give me something dear and familiar to hold to."

Sam nodded wordlessly. He only wished that there was more he could do. "The thing that comes to my mind most clearly is the look on my Gaffer's face that afternoon when Mr. Bilbo suggested what he did…"

***

Sam peeked out from his bedroom doorway to watch Bilbo and his father sip tea and discuss the matter at hand. They did such things often, but Sam's attention had been caught when he overheard his and Frodo's name mentioned repeatedly. Sam knew he shouldn't be listening in on their conversation, but he was unable to resist doing so. He squeezed as closely as he could to his doorframe and focused on his father.

Hamfast's eyes bulged out slightly and he choked a bit on his tea. Shocked but not angry, but gawked at Bilbo. "And you approve of this?" he sputtered.

"Why, of course!" Bilbo chuckled. "I wouldn't propose such a thing if I didn't approve, that would be silly."

Hamfast cut off a wedge of cheese and chewed on it thoughtfully. "You're willing to let Sam off for these few days so the boys can have their fun?"

Bilbo waved a dismissing hand. "Certainly, certainly You can do without him for that time, you did so before just fine before he was old enough to work."

Hamfast nodded in agreement. "Yes…you think they're old enough?"

"Yes, yes!" was Bilbo's rushed reply. "They're old enough. I have it all planned out; we won't let them go far so we can keep an eye on them." He stood and clapped a friendly hand on Hamfast's shoulder. "Don't worry. They will be fine. They're still boys, they need to have a bit of fun and adventure. Goodness knows it won't hurt either of them, especially Sam."

"Adventure?" questioned Hamfast warily.

"Yes, adventure," Bilbo replied unconcernedly. "Adventure always comes when there are two boys having fun together. Setting up a tent can be an adventure if it's done right."

Hamfast let out a heavy sigh and gave in. "I suppose. Sam may go."

"Good, very good," Bilbo laughed. "Now, I must take my leave. Frodo's back home dying to know how our conversation went. I must go prevent him from wearing a hole in the floor from all his pacing. Thank you, Hamfast."

"Anything, Mr. Bilbo, anything." Hamfast shook with Bilbo before the latter departed.

***

Sam took a deep, refreshing breath and exhaled slowly. There was nothing like having the entire day before you and being able to do with it what you chose. Yes, there was a certain joy in work, but even with work there must come the occasional holiday. This was Sam's first in a long while. He adjusted the pack on his back and ran ahead a little to catch up with Frodo. "How much further, Mr. Frodo?"

Frodo stopped and took in their surroundings. They had reached the top of a large, grassy hill overlooking Hobbiton. The view of the valley down bellow, with its little lumps for hobbit holes and sapphire snakes slithering throw the emerald carpet, was breathtaking. "Here," he announced. "I say we stop here."

"Alright, Mr. Frodo," Sam answered, dropping his pack. 

"Frodo," the other said, doing the same.

"What?" asked Sam, looking strangely at Frodo. 

The other hobbit dusted off his hands and turned to Sam. "Just call me Frodo. We're best friends; I'm not a 'Mr.,' especially not to you, I should hope." Frodo glanced over at Sam's now crimson face. He moved to stand beside Sam and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Whatever is the matter, Sam?"

Sam turned even more red, if possible. "It's that, well, beggin' your pardon Mr. Frodo, I've always been taught, from when I was a little hobbit babe, that you and Mr. Bilbo are the masters. We're not to be anything but formal with you, beggin' your pardon."

Frodo stomped his foot in frustration, then immediately regretted the action and calmed when he saw how it made Sam jump. "I'm sorry Sam, please," he apologized, placing his hand again on Sam's shoulder. "I just don't want you to see me as your master, but as your equal. It makes me terribly uncomfortable the other way." Sam began to voice a protest, but immediately cut himself off, remembering the manners instilled in him to always let the master finish first.

Frodo caught this internal conflict within Sam, and an idea suddenly formed in his mind. "How's this, Sam," he began, looking straight at his best friend. "You may continue to call me Mr. Frodo if that's what suits you, but please if you ever wish to, shorten it to plain Frodo. Also, please try to see me as your equal, your best friend, not 'the master.'"

"But I already do," Sam softly replied, returning Frodo's gaze. "I already do."

***

After their discussion, the two young hobbits looked about them, and seeing the swiftly setting sun, decided that it was time to set up camp. Just as Bilbo had predicted, erecting the tent, unpacking their supplies, and building a fire soon became an adventure. Not quite an epic quest, but any change from the daily routine was adventure enough for Frodo and Sam, or any young hobbit I suppose.

Their camp was indeed set on a high hill overlooking Hobbiton. Where they were set up was a large patch of open space, bordered at its one edge by a pine grove. Coming from that direction Frodo and Sam could faintly hear the gurgling and babbling of a small stream, perhaps a spring.

The sun had just sank below the horizon when Sam and Frodo finished setting up camp. As the sky grew darker and more and more twinkling stars appeared in the heavenly body, Sam and Frodo ate the meal Mr. Gamgee prepared and packed for them earlier that day. 

They then traded tales, stories, and songs around the crackling campfire. Before too late, the young hobbits found their eyes growing heavy and yawns becoming more frequent. Despite their desire to stay up as late as they could, Frodo and Sam soon after crawled into their tent and curled up in slumber.

***

Sam's dreams, which took place mostly in a garden, were all accompanied by a light drumming sound. In those few grey moments between slumber and wakefulness, Sam's brain unconsciously thought, '_I do believe it's raining. That's the sound of raindrops hammering on our tent. It's also suddenly quite wet and cold, neither or which it is supposed to be inside a tent.'_

At about this time Sam woke and was rather unhappy (thought not surprised) to find that it was indeed both cold and wet inside the tent. In fact, there was a violent storm going on. Rainwater poured through an open patch in the roof ripped off by a ferocious wind.

Glancing over to Frodo, Sam was shocked when he saw that the older hobbit still slept. Perhaps this was due to the fact that Frodo's face was under his pillow. Removing the pillow and shaking Frodo, Sam said urgently, "wake up, Mr. Frodo! There's a storm about!"

Muttering to himself about cold baths, Frodo groggily pulled open one eye. "What is it?" Sam did not need to say anything. The state of things spoke for themselves. The tent was almost completely torn from the ground now, and everything outside of their packs in the campsite had been blown away by the ever-increasing gale.

Now Frodo's eyes opened wide and he sat up with a start. "Come, Sam!" he yelled above the wind, standing up and grabbing his pack. "We must find shelter!" Sam did as he was told, and raced after Frodo towards the pine forest. They reached the trees in little time, but there was no sign of shelter in sight.

"Where do we do?" Sam called to Frodo, who was a few feet ahead of him. 

"I don't know!" Frodo shouted back, "but we must keep going!" The two hobbits ran on in the storm. The wind shrieked in their ears, tugging at their sopping clothes, and the rain pelted them mercilessly. Soon, Sam and Frodo came to the stream that the had been able to hear from their campsite. Swollen from the rainwater, the stream was at least twice its normal size, and probably quite deep. It spilled out in all directions and sucked at the muddy ground.

Suddenly there was a great flash of light and a loud crack. Out of nowhere, a branch disconnected from its tree by the lightning swooped down upon Frodo. "Mr. Frodo!" Sam yelled, trying to alert him, but it was too late. The branch caught Frodo in the stomach and sent him soaring into the thrashing waters of the stream.

"Frodo!" Sam screamed again, frozen in his spot while his mind raced to figure out what to do. Instinct took over a second later, and quickly dropping his pack, Sam leapt into the water after Frodo.

tbc


	3. Foreshadowing to Later Times and Greater...

Foreshadowing to Later Times and Greater Deeds

~ _"Frodo opened his eyes.  'Am I still dreaming?' he muttered.  "But all the other dreams were horrible.'_

_'You're not dreaming at all, Master,' said Sam.  'It's real.  It's me.  I've come.' ~ J.R.R. Tolkien, ROTK_.

            'Twas only after he dove into the swirling stream that Sam remembered he'd never learned to swim.  _'Well, there's no point in fretting about that now,' _Sam thought to himself as he floundered about in the water.  _'You've got yourself into this, now you've got to get yourself out, and save Mr. Frodo too.'_

            Sam kicked his legs wildly and managed to push himself up to see above the waves.  These waves were nothing like the kind I'm sure you and I have seen, but you must remember that poor Sam had never seen an overgrown stream quite like this one before, let alone an ocean.  As luck would have it, the branch that had got them into this mess was floating beside Sam.

            Sam took a deep breath and plunged under the water as another wave came.  Gasping, he resurfaced and pawed at the water until his hands grasped the slippery wood of the branch.  Finally given stability, Sam was able to haul himself up enough to catch a glimpse of a brown curly-haired head bobbing about in the water.

            "Fr-Frodo!" Sam sputtered, spitting a wave of stream water out of his mouth.  Frodo did not appear to be conscious, or even swimming.  Quickly deciding what to do, Sam pulled himself as fast as he could along the one end of the branch to the other.  From there, he was within reaching distance of Frodo.

            Sam made numerous swipes, but to no avail.  Finally he leaned as far as he could off of the branch, lunged, and managed to grab Frodo by the collar.  Grunting, Sam hauled Frodo to his side and slung first one, then the other of his motionless arms over the branch.  After a brief inspection of his best friend, Sam determined that Frodo was unconscious and barely breathing.

            Frantically, Sam's mind raced for a solution, and found one.  The further downstream they shot, the more to the left they slanted.  If Sam could manage to lean far enough in that direction, the branch might catch on the bank and he might be able to pull himself and Frodo to shore.

            Panting with exertion, Sam kicked his legs in the water and gave a mighty thrust, and was able to get the branch to catch and stick in the ground.  With one arm Sam pulled Frodo along and with the other pulled himself.  Gradually, they  made it to shore in this fashion.  Once there, Sam wanted to collapse, but his job was not yet done.

            Frodo's face was pale, and his lips tinted blue.  Sam was too weary to think, all he could do was follow instinct.  A voice in the back of his mind guided him as Sam pounded on Frodo's chest and blew air into his lips until Frodo coughed, and water came spilling out of his mouth.  Sam felt a smile curl on his face as his limbs, trembling with exhaustion, collapsed and he surrendered to the blackness.

***

            Sam felt like someone was staring at him.  A warm light, like sunshine, beamed at him until he was able to stumble to consciousness.  The first thing Sam saw upon waking was a pair of familiar bright blue eyes scrutinizing him.  They lit in joy, "Sam!  You're awake!"  That he was.  Sam looked about him.  He was back in his own room, his own bed, with sun shining through the windows and an excited Frodo at his side.

            Sam tried to push himself into a sitting position.  He succeeded, but was awarded by screams of protest from his muscles.  Every inch of his body was throbbing and sore.  Frodo, who'd ran off to alert Sam's parents of their son's waking, was back at the doorway when he caught Sam's hiss of pain.

            "Are you alright, Sam?" he asked, his brow suddenly furrowed in concern.

            "He's just sore.  A warm bath, the right herbs, and a few day's rest, and he'll be as good as new, if not stronger."  Hamfast Gamgee walked past Frodo to sit beside his son on the bed.  "Don't worry, Mr. Frodo."  For all his father's pleasant tone and reassuring attitude, Sam couldn't help but feel a bit anxious.

            Frodo's eyes burned into his own.  All traces of what they'd formally contained disappeared, and were replaced by a strange, haunted gaze.  Mrs. Gamgee then swept into the room, breaking the stare.  Her fussing took over, and Frodo slipped away in all the bustle.  

***

            The next week passed rapidly.  Sam recovered in a matter of days, and soon resumed all of his work around Bag-End.  Frodo spent more and more time indoors, emerging occasionally to exchange a smile and a few casual words with Sam only to disappear again.  

            While weeding one day Sam felt a prickle on the back of his neck, similar to the feeling he'd had when Frodo had been staring at him before.  He turned, and sure enough, Frodo was watching him through his favorite window.  This was not uncommon; Frodo often gazed at Sam while the other worked, but it was with a cheerful tone, not this eerie stare.

            Sam had to admit to confusion.  Frodo had appeared overjoyed when Sam woke, then suddenly his mood had changed to distant and almost brooding.  This bothered Sam greatly, and he worried about it much, but he considered it not his place to pry.  After this went on for another couple days, Sam's concern overtook his manners.  Aside from a hundred other worries, he was concerned that Frodo was angry with him.

            Sam waited until the break for luncheon, then took a deep breathing and stepped up boldly to Bag-End's door.  _'Here goes it, Sam Gagmee,'_ he thought.  _'It's one matter when you visit Mr. Bilbo to listen to his stories, but it's another thing all together when he comes to inquiry about something that could very well be his master's private affairs.  But Mr. Frodo DID tell me to not be so skittish, so I suppose I'm only following orders.'  _Sam rapped on the door.

            "Just a moment, just a moment!" a hurried voice called from within.  True enough, the door opened a moment later.  It was Bilbo.  "Ah, Samwise, do come in!"  Bilbo grinned at him.  "You're just in time for lunch!  Frodo should be happy to see you, he's been rather glum as of late."  Bilbo scurried into the kitchen, Sam plodding behind.

            "Beggin' your pardon," Sam began.

            "Pardon?  Whatever for?" Bilbo thrust a teapot into Sam's hands to hold while he arranged things on the table.  "You've been nothing but a help, and a good one at that."

            Sam squirmed uncomfortably and blushed.  "Thank you, Mr. Bilbo.  It's just…I'm here to speak with Mr. Frodo, if that's alright.  I've been wanting to have a talk with him, but I've been so busy…"

            "Go right ahead," Bilbo waved him in the direction of the hallway.  "The lad's in his room  And when you're done, the both of you come back out here.  I'll have lunch ready."

            Nodding gratefully, "thank you, Mr. Bilbo," Sam hurried to Frodo's room.  He knocked on the door and was answered by a soft, "come in."  Sam pushed open the door to see a tired Frodo sitting on his bed staring off into a non-existent distance.  Sam gave Frodo the best smile he could manage, and was rewarded with a weak one from Frodo.  "Hullo, Sam."

            "Hullo, Mr. Frodo," Sam sat down beside Frodo.  "How are you feeling?"

            Frodo sighed.  "Well enough, I suppose."

            "If you don't mind, Mr. Frodo," Sam said slowly and as respectfully as possible, "may I know what's troubling you?  I'd like to know if I had anything to do with it."

            "Sam, you saved me!"  Frodo turned his head and fixed Sam with his gaze.  "If there's anything in this world I'm upset with, it's certainly not you!"

            Sam was mystified.  If he hadn't done anything wrong, than why was Mr. Frodo suddenly so distant?  Frodo knew he wasn't being clear enough.  No one knew what bothered him, of anyone, only Bilbo might have an idea.  "You saved me,"  Frodo repeated, firmer this time.  "I never did thank you, so now I am.  Thank you for saving me, Sam."

            Sam nodded,  unsure of what to say next.  He didn't need to say anything, for Frodo continued.  "And I know you're wondering about what has been going on with me.  There's not a lot to tell.  There has just been much on my mind."  A pensive expression settled upon Frodo's visage now, and the haunted light to his eyes from before reappeared.  "I almost died there, Sam, if not for you."

            He fell silent, and did not speak again for a matter of minutes.  When h e finally did, his voice was barely above a whisper.  "And it is not the mere fact of almost dying that tortures me, but_ how_."

            It suddenly all became clear to Sam.  There wasn't a soul in Hobbit who went to _The Ivy Bush_ that didn't know the circumstances under which Frodo had come to live with Bilbo.*  So that's what bothered Frodo.  He'd almost died in the same way as his parents.  The irony twisted Frodo's lips wryly and he sat, again gazing off into oblivion.  

            Sam laid his hand reassuringly on Frodo's shoulder.  He spent a time of silence with Frodo, sharing in his suffering, before speaking.  "But you're here.  We had an adventure—more than enough for a lifetime and I hope that's our last and only adventure—and it's over now.  The sun's shining, there's work to be done in the garden, and Mr. Bilbo's waiting lunch on us."  Sam paused and nodded swiftly at Frodo.  "As my Gaffer always says, there's no use in worrying about the past; there's enough work to be done in the here and now without having to fret about what's already happened." 

            Frodo pondered this.  Sam's clear hobbit sense never failed to cheer him.  The shadows slowly faded form the depths of his eyes, and the brightness returned.  "Your Gaffer is a wise hobbit, Sam," he said in a lighter voice.

            "That he is, Mr. Frodo."  All of a sudden Frodo laughed.  A clear, merry laugh.  

            "Sam!" he gasped in between breaths.  "What WERE you thinking?  You can't swim!"

            A grin spread across Sam's face.  "That's just it, Mr. Frodo," he stated simply and truthfully.  "I wasn't thinking."  After a moment of quiet, Frodo's laugh, accompanied this time by Sam's, rang out through Bag-End.  Wiping tears of mirth from their eyes, the two best friends stood and headed to the kitchen to join Bilbo for lunch.

*For those of you who've not heard the Gaffer tell the tale, I'll put it in brief for you now.  Frodo's parents, Drogo and Primula Baggins (formerly Brandybuck), had been boating on the Brandywine river when there was a terrible accident and they drowned.  Poor Frodo, just a child, was left behind.  Frodo lived with his mother's relatives at Brandyhall before Bilbo adopted him.

tbc


	4. Side by Side

_I just realized that I've been forgetting the disclaimer all this time…whoops :P So…everyone belongs to Tolkien. Yeah. Except for Bred and Ned, they belong to me, but I stole their last names from names listed in FOTR, so those belong to Tolkien too. And thank you everyone for all the great reviews! T.H., Monkey, Mainecoon, Ashley, Snickers, Shadowfax, Thaelos, Lorraine, Melilot Millstone, thanks all of you! You rock! *passes out sugar packets* _

Side by Side

~_" 'It is no good trying to escape you. But I'm glad, Sam. I cannot tell you how glad.' " Fellowship of the Ring, J.R.R. Tolkien ~_

The bond between Frodo and Sam clearly grew before the eyes of all who paid any notice, and even some to those who didn't. Now Frodo spent his time waiting for Sam to finish working planning what they would do once they were free. Free time became play time, and the time Frodo (and later Sam, though it took him longer) thrived off of. Not that Sam tired of his work, but he cherished his time with Frodo. 

As they grew, Merry and Pippin spent increasing hours traveling to and from Hobbiton to play with Sam and Frodo. Sometimes the four would meet halfway and cause havoc on any vegetable patches that had the misfortune to be spotted. It may be hard to imagine Sam holding party to any devastation of any sort of garden, but it was through Sam's urging that gardens raided by Frodo, Pippin, and Merry managed to survive reasonably unscathed, though maybe missing a carrot or few.

Despite all of this, Merry and Pippin weren't always there. Frodo wasn't always able to plan what might consume his and Sam's time. Sometimes, in fact most times, it's best to expect the unexpected.

***

Bredagar Hornblower and Ned Bracegirdle: a pair of oafs, large (for their age) in size but not in brain. They were blundering, but strong, mean spirited as well. To appease the vindictiveness of their natures, Bredagar and Ned (most commonly known as Bred and Ned, in that order) picked on any potential candidate unfortunate enough to be on their path.

'Twas a simple enough routine. Nothing seemingly important. With one exception. Now Frodo had his first chance to repay Sam for his friendship, get a message through Sam's blessedly thick hair and skull that he really did see him as a friend, and equal.

***

Sam's duties were not restricted specifically to Bag End. He had a gardening chore or two around Bagshot Row, though nothing that made his job overwhelming. Sam was tending to a group of small violets when Bred and Ned happened to walk by. "Look, Ned, it's the simpleton," Bred sneered.

"Playing with flowers as usual," Ned's dark brown eyes were malicious. "I thought flowers were a girl's business. Perhaps poor Samwise is confused." Now Bred and Ned addressed Sam, though previously their tones had been loud enough for him to hear.

"Ho, Sam!" Bred called, strutting with Ned to stand next to Sam, watching him work. "Aren't flowers for women?"

"My job's gardening," Sam said stubbornly. "That's what I'm doing. And I'm quite busy, so if you would excuse me," Sam finished his job with the violets, pushed past Bred and Ned, and made for the shed to find a spade. Snickering, Bred and Ned followed close behind. 

***

Frodo dropped his book with a sigh. He quite enjoyed reading, but could only keep it up for a few hours before his legs cramped and he needed to do something else. Frodo stood, book in hand, and glanced around his favorite reading spot: a grassy, leafy grove tucked away in the outskirts of Hobbiton, filled with knee-high grass and curving trees with the perfect circular branches to nestle into for a good read. Frodo yawned, stretched, and decided to trot off to Bagshot Row and see if Sam was done his work, or at least near enough so that Frodo could persuade him to take a break for a snack.

The walk back to Hobbiton and Sam's home took longer than Frodo liked when he was impatient, but on most days the young hobbit was calm and thoroughly liked a stroll in scenic Shire weather, breathing in the clean air and basking in the warm sun. Today was one such day. Frodo made no hurry to return home, and his mood was happy and content as he approached the scene unfolding before him.

It was the movement of more than one figure—two not familiar like Sam's familiar, that first alerted Frodo to something out of the ordinary. Hobbits, disliking the unordinary, are quite perceptive of it. Frodo's senses in this matter were extremely keen, and he noticed from Sam's stiff movements as he dug holes to plant new flowers that he was uncomfortable. Sam was never anything but completely at ease when around a garden. That was when Frodo spotted Bred and Ned. It didn't take him long to figure out what their intentions were. Frodo tucked his book securely under one arm and jogged quickly to Sam.

***

"Doesn't the puppy-dog know how to think for himself?" Ned taunted as he crouched down on the ground and leaned into Sam's face.

"Of course not," Bred answered from behind Sam. "Without his mater's heel to hide behind, poor Sammy—"  
"Enough!" steaming, Sam threw down his spade. He didn't like to get angry (though it happened often in spite of that) but when lazy, unproductive hobbits annoyed him to a point that he couldn't concentrate on his work, Sam had to draw the line. "Listen!" he snapped, whirling around on Bred and Ned, "you two OAFS need to—"

"Oooh, look, the little doggy's mad!" Bred chuckled. Sam stared up at the pair. He suddenly realized how large they were, and remembered that they were at least fire years older than him. Their sneering faces were hard and mean; Sam knew they would not back down or hesitate from a fight.

"You! Leave him alone!" a voice suddenly cried from the road. It was Frodo. He marched to Sam's side and stood there, glowering, with his arms folded across his chest. 

"Here's the puppy's master now," Ned growled. "Always coming to his pet's rescue, because the poor dumb beast can't do anything on his own." Frodo shook in fury, and he could feel Sam doing the same beside him. Frodo didn't know if he should stand up for Sam, or let him handle this. Frodo knew Sam could take care of it on his own, and he did not wish to wound his friend's pride or let him think that Bred or Ned's taunts held truth.

Frodo chanced a look at Sam. In the depths of his eyes, Frodo saw that Sam longed to shy away from this confrontation, but his temper had taken him too far. Frodo drew himself up to his full height. Drawing strength from Sam, and also from the memory of Bilbo's stories, Frodo looked Bred square in the eyes. "You know not what you speak," he said firmly.

"Oh?" Ned's eyebrows arched quizzically.

"Look, the master's standing up for his pet. How touching." Bred's lips curled rudely. "'Tis a pity that between them they've not an ounce of courage, and only half a wit."

"You're one to talk," Sam muttered beneath his breath. 

"What's that?" Bred took a step forward and pushed Sam back. So strong was his force that Sam stumbled and nearly fell, had not Frodo reached out an arm and steadied him. He could just not abide to hear Bred and Ned insult Sam. 

"That is enough!" Frodo's eyes began to blaze. "You know nothing, nothing at all!" He took advancing steps toward Bred and Ned, and despite themselves, they stepped back. The burning fury in Frodo's eyes unnerved them for than they would admit. "Sam is stronger and braver than you could ever hope to be!" 

Sam stared at Frodo in awe. He cared for Frodo, but he never quite allowed himself to believe that Frodo felt the same. Somehow, he'd never been able to believe that they truly were best friends. Until now.

Frodo stopped his advance but continued his speech. "Sam has more in him than most hobbits in the Shire. Even he doesn't realize it. But he will amount to more than you ever will. He has an inner strength greater than anyone realizes, and a quiet determination, and," Frodo quieted some, but his voice was still firm. "I won't hear you insult him." The hobbit finished, and returned to his place beside Sam.

Bred and Ned stared at Frodo, then each other. For a moment, the stunned silence was accompanied only by the distant sounds of birds chirping and busy hobbits at work. The two bullies soon regained their composure and reestablished their lofty attitudes. "Pretty words," Ned scoffed, strutting forward. "But let's see you prove them."

Frodo gulped, and looked to Sam. Both were willing to defend themselves and each other, though they knew Bred and Ned had the physical advantage and would likely come out less damaged. Still, Frodo and Sam were prepared to fight, so long as it was side by side.

Just then, the Gaffer came walking down the lane from Bag End. He inspected the scene with a disapproving gaze. "What's this? Idle hobbits while there's work to be done? I won't have it!" He stomped up to Bred and Ned and waved them away. "Gone with you! We don't need you here if you're going to cause a disruption, back home!"

Bred and Ned stared challengingly back at the Gaffer, but the older hobbit's wizened glare could scare a wolf away from its prey. Grumbling, Bred and Ned shot a glower at Frodo and Sam, then trudged away down the path. The Gaffer removed his hands from his hips and wiped them on his smock. "I don't need to know what that was about." He pointed his finger at the both of them, "but you shouldn't let bullies like those two provoke you. The trouble isn't worth it. Now, Sam, back to work." A sudden sparkle appeared in his eyes. "if you finish early, there might be a special treat later. Mr. Frodo appears bored, he might be willing to lend you a hand if you asked." With a wink, the Gaffer disappeared inside his home.

Frodo sighed, and clapped Sam on the back. "C'mon, teach me how to garden."

Sam smiled, and handed Frodo a shovel. "I want to—"

"You don't have to," Frodo interrupted. "That's what friends do, stand up for each other. And we're best friends. I know you'd do the same for me in a heartbeat. You don't need to thank me." He saw Sam take another breath, and knew what he was about to say. Frodo answered before Sam had time to question. "And I meant every word I said. All of it is truth. You're much greater than you give yourself credit for, Sam. If—I know this would never happen—but if I ever went on an adventure, like Bilbo's, I'd want no one else by my side."

Sam studied the ground for a moment before looking up at Frodo, slowly grinning. "I'd want to be no where else."

Frodo smiled brightly and held out a hand for Sam to clasp. "Side by side."

Sam shook with Frodo and repeated, "side by side."


	5. Epilogue: On to Brotherhood

_Heya__! I want to thank everyone again for all of the awesome reviews! I'm finally finished this; it took me a little over a month. It's been great; I never planned on writing a lotr fic but this was a lot of fun. I hope you all enjoyed it! *throws a sugar party* this epilogue's for all of you!_

_Oh…and this may seem kind of dumb…but I want to thank Hercules and Iolaus here.  Without their countless adventures I would not have the deep understanding I have of their relationship.  It was by basing (minimally) this fic on things that I could see Herc and Iolaus doing (though obviously with a Frodo and Sam twist) that I was able to write this story at all.  _

Epilogue: On to Brotherhood

_"'All alone and without me to help you? I couldn't have borne it.'_

_'It would be the death of you to come with me,' said Frodo, 'and I could not have borne that.'_

_'Not as certain as being left behind,' said Sam._

_'But I am going to Mordor.'_

_'I know that well enough, Mr. Frodo. Of course you are. And I'm coming with you.'" ---FOTR, J.R.R. Tolkien_

Life continued normally for Frodo and Sam. They had the occasional scrap with Bred and Ned, but once Merry and Pippin grew into their tweens, the four friends pulled a series of pranks on the two bullies. A showdown ensued, resulting in the four roughed up but beaming young hobbits emerging victorious.

Through it all, Frodo and Sam only grew closer. They didn't realize that their friendship was evolving into a brotherhood, though, until that one fateful day full of tales of dark lords, evil creatures, and a magic ring. The One Ring. The rest is history.

***

"That's the end of the story, Mr. Frodo," Sam yawned and rubbed his stinging eyes. "As far as the beginning of our quest, anyway, and I don't think you need or want to hear about that."

"I don't Sam, thank you," Frodo ran a hand through his dust encrusted hair. He took a deep breath, pooled his remaining energy, and pushed himself into a standing position. Sam held onto Frodo's arm until Frodo stopped wobbling.

"You know I'll carry you, if you need, Mr. Frodo."

Frodo nodded gratefully. "Again, thank you. But I shall manage."

Sam dusted his pants off and began walking, Frodo at his side. "If I'm not allowed to thank you, than you are not allowed to thank me either. It's my job to help you," he finished stubbornly. 

Sam's familiar, stubborn persistence brought warmth to Frodo's heart. "And the same from me to you." Frodo tripped on a rock and stumbled, but Sam steadied him. "As much as I can, anyway," Frodo added with a weak grin.

"Don't you worry, Mr. Frodo. We'll make it to that mountain and toss that dratted ring in, and then everything will be as it was," Sam declared. Frodo exchanged a small but determined smile with Sam, and the two best friends, brothers at heart, continued on their trek through Mordor.

_~ "So Frodo and Sam set off on the last stage of their Quest together." –FOTR, J.R.R. Tolkien_

**The End**

_"'I am glad you are here with me. Here at the end of all things, Sam.'" –Return of the King, J.R.R. Tolkien_


End file.
